After the Battle
by LauraElliot
Summary: Following the Battle of Hogwarts, life must go on... Hermione/Ron. Chapter 2 Coming soon!


Ron sat on his old fourposter bed and kicked off his shoes wearily, noticing the thick line of dust and dirt that ringed his ankles. His body ached and felt thick and heavy, as though some great invisible weight was strapped to his back. He sighed and rubbed a bloody smudge on his freckled arm. He would shower tomorrow.

It was a strange feeling being back in the Gryffindor dormitory, surrounded by the familiar red and gold curtains, the dark wooden trunks and twisted carved bed posts. Everything was as it had been for the last 7 years, only minus the posters, scarves and personal details the teenage boys had strewn about the room. He felt older and emptier than he ever had before. He bent forward and rested his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands. There was a horrible weight in the middle of his chest and a nasty sharp lump in his throat threatened to surface every time he swallowed. His eyes stung with the threat of tears, but he balled up his fists and pushed them into his eyes, rubbing them too hard and causing a kaleidoscope of light to diffuse across his eyelids. This was agony. Ron felt as though he was standing on a huge precipice, looking down into the great depths of pain and grief. It was dizzying and sickeningly tempting, but he knew if he stepped off it would be almost impossible to climb back up. He had to be strong. There would be months of this, years even, so he held his breath and pushed his fists harder into his eyes. Waiting for the physical pain to drown out the one that throbbed in his chest.

There was a knock on the door. He sat up quickly, putting his hands on his knees. The light flooded back into his eyes and his vision swam for a second, making him feel sick and confused.

'Yeah?'

Hermione's faced appeared round the door. Her thick brown hair was down and as wild as ever, matted with dirt and something dark which Ron suspected was blood. He could see by the red blush of her eyes that she had been crying, but she smiled gently at him.

'Can I come in? Do you mind?'

'Course not. Come in.'

She walked across the room slowly. At first Ron thought it was from caution but as she lowered herself gingerly down next to him, he realised it was from physical toll of the last few months.

'Are you alright?' He asked as she shifted to make herself comfortable and winced.

'Oh I'll be fine, its just all that sleeping rough.' She joked, knocking her knee against his in a friendly way. They sat in silence for a moment. Ron could feel her looking at him closely, but her gaze made him feel vulnerable. A hole in the carpet monopolised his attention, so he concentrated very hard on poking it with his toe. He felt Hermione's eyes drift down to something brown she was holding in her lap. She seemed surprised to see it herself for a moment.

'Oh I forgot, I brought you this,' she offered the brown paper bag to him, 'in case you're hungry. I noticed you didn't each much before, which I course I completely understand. I just thought, you know, if you change your mind. It's just a sandwich.'

Ron felt a sudden rush of love towards her. The agony for a moment was replaced with an intense adoration and a rush of gratitude that this brilliant, intelligent woman cared about him and for a second the tears that threatened his eyes were not from sadness. He accepted the bag from her and placed it on the bedside table, then took her hand and held between the two of his. He squeezed it gently.

'Thanks, Hermione.' He still couldn't meet her gaze, but she laced her fingers with his and squeezed it back.

'Will you go back to the Burrow tomorrow?'

'Depends,' Ron replied, 'I'll see what Mum and Dad say. Can't exactly stay at Hogwarts, it looks like its going to do itself in any second.

'Poor Filch,' said Hermione, 'he's got his work cut out for him.'

'Nah, it's the old git's wet dream, all that sweeping' They laughed at this.

'What will you do about, you know, your mum and dad?' asked Ron tentatively.

'I'll go and find them I suppose, and pray I can give them their memory back.' Hermione shrugged and then winced at the pain that seemed to cause her. 'I thought I might come back with you for a while first, until everything has been settled and what not,' she blushed. 'I mean if that's alright with you, I don't want to intrude or anything, but I'm not sure I could bare to be on my own.'

'Course, stay as long as you want. I'd like you to. Mum and Dad will too.'

'It's strange thinking about the future,' Hermione murmured, stroking the back of Ron's freckled hand soothingly with her thumb, 'it doesn't seem quite right does it?'

'No,' said Ron, 'for a moment it didn't really seem like we'd have much of one.' He looked out of the window at the darkening skies. The moon glowed above the castle's turrets and towers like a huge, round crystal ball. The few windows that still remained twinkled in the pallid light.

'It's completely mad we're still here at all after everything we've been through the last 7 years. I mean blimey, Hermione, I thought we were goners _an hour ago_. We're lucky.' His voice suddenly became very sombre. 'Lupin, Tonks… Fred. Not so lucky.' He tried to look up and smile wryly at her, but the minute their eyes met the pain in his chest swelled up like a balloon and he cracked. Great thundering sobs rolled out, his face crumpled like paper. Hermione wrapped her arms around him, and he buried his face into her hair.

'Oh Ron I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry.' She stroked the top of head, tears streaming down her own nose.

'It hurts so much, I don't know what to do, I can't breathe.'

'I know, Ron, I know. I'm so sorry.'

They stayed like that for a while, holding onto one another but saying nothing until Ron's sobs subsided. He pulled away slightly so he could look at her. She brushed a tear away from his cheek with the back of her fingers. She smiled sadly at him.

'It'll get better. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it won't hurt like this forever. For now, let's just try and be thankful it's over.'

'I know,' replied Ron, looking down at her hands which he was holding in his lap, 'that's what so confusing, this weird mix of relief and agony, I didn't think I was capable of feeling two things at once.'

'Neither did I,' joked Hermione. Ron wiped the last of his tears from his eyes with the back of his burgundy sleeve. Hermione sighed and Ron noticed for the first time just how tired and thin she looked.

'I feel as though I'll sleep for days or not at all,' she said.

Ron agreed with her. He wondered aloud how much sleep Harry would be getting.

'Not as much as he should,' said Hermione with a frown.

Ron shuffled back onto the bed, so his back was against the pillow and motioned for Hermione to join him. She lay with her head on his chest and he put his arm around her, resting his head on top of hers and stroking her hair. He breathed in its comforting flowery smell. Better then Honeydukes, better than the kitchen at the Burrow, better even than warm butterbeer. It felt very natural to be this intimate with her. The last few hours seemed to have dissolved any awkwardness or confusion about their relationship. He knew they would have to speak about this, but right now he was too tired and for the first time in a long time, he had a comforting feeling that there _was_ a future that held these conversations. Besides, he was so exhausted nothing filled his head except the pure pleasure of soft pillows and the warm body beside him. His eyes were heavy, and the rhythmic ebb and flow of Hermione's breathing lured him deeper and deeper towards the prospect of sleep. He kissed the crown of her head gently. Grief would wait. First; sleep.

'You know, I can't think of anything remotely intelligent to say,' said Hermione, in a thick sleepy voice.

'That's a first,' said Ron.


End file.
